Inside the train, Jonty plonked her down in a vacant seat, took the one beside her and gripped her hands tightly. ‘I’m not letting you go back to Liverpool until you’re wearing my ring on your finger,’ he announced, much to the interest of the other people in the compartment. ‘Oh, Tess, my love, will you – can you bear to marry a farmer, and leave your pet shop, and your gran, and all your friends behind?’

‘Oh, hush, everyone’s listening,’ Tess whispered. ‘And I shall love being a farmer’s wife, provided you’re the farmer in question.’

Jonty leaned back in his seat and blew out his cheeks in a relieved whistle. ‘Phew! Then that’s settled,’ he said. But Tess had jumped to her feet and was staring out at the passing scene.

‘Jonty, the train’s moving and no one knows where I am, not Gran or Albert, not even Mitch. Whatever will they think? Oh, God, and what about Snowy? He thinks we’re still together. How on earth can I explain, admit that it was all a horrible misunderstanding?’

‘Don’t care; don’t matter,’ said Jonty, his face wreathed in a blissful smile. ‘If they don’t guess then we’ll ring them the first time we have to change. Oh, darling Tess, you’re going to spend Christmas with me after all, and I promise you it will be a Christmas to remember!’

Snowy looked up at the clock, then hefted his kitbag. ‘Well, it looks like we made it in good time for our families to buy a few extra spuds and so on, since it’s only three in the afternoon,’ he said. ‘Have a grand day tomorrow and don’t grab all the turkey for yourself. Times are pretty hard, I’m told, but I reckon just being home will make up for all this austerity we’ve heard about. Don’t forget, you’re going to come round to the pet shop on Heyworth Street and ask for me as soon as the festivities are over. We’ll have a good jangle and a bevvy.’

‘I shan’t forget,’ Tappy said. Festooned with bags and bundles they stood for a moment, watching a train come in, seeing the disembarking passengers, mostly uniformed men, all smiling, all heading for home. They were still watching, suddenly reluctant to move away, when the crowd of arrivals began to thin and would-be leavers surged towards the barrier. Tickets were clipped and folk began to climb aboard, mostly well wrapped up and armed with parcels and packages. Snowy frowned; one of the chaps looked familiar. He watched, puzzled. Had the fellow been at school with him? But he wasn’t in uniform: he wore a fawn mackintosh and a cap on the back of his head; and even as he watched, Snowy realised that the man was not alone. He was with a small girl wearing a navy overcoat and carrying an umbrella, which she suddenly cast down on the platform in order to wrap both arms round the bloke’s neck and kiss him passionately, indifferent to those around her.